


Panacea

by apostapals (apostapal)



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Gender-Neutral Hawke, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 05:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7921675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apostapal/pseuds/apostapals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill. Anders has a solution to every problem as far as Hawke's concerned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Panacea

When Hawke found Anders they apparently stumbled upon the largest wealth of knowledge for fixing problems in existence. He seemed to have a cure for just about everything; not just counting his talents as a healer.

He knew the best ways to fend off the dust of Darktown, that was the first time Hawke remembered–aside from the obvious ‘only person in Kirkwall with maps of the Deep Roads’.

“Stop rubbing at your face.” he tutted, adjusting the bandanna Hawke had haphazardly covered their face with for them, “You’ll irritate your skin, it’ll itch more, then you’ll rub more and it just gets worse and worse.”

“What am I supposed to do instead?” Hawke asked.

Anders pulled a vial from his hip and held it out to them. Hawke started at it, slightly green liquid spinning slowly, and raised a brow.

“Put some of this on next time, right after you wash your face.” Anders explained as Hawke finally took the bottle from him, “It’ll dull the itch.”

It worked like, well, magic and Hawke ended up having to get Bethany her own bottle when she started stealing it too. From then on, Anders seemed to have the answer to most of Hawke’s issues; one way or another.

“It’s the taint.” Anders’ voice behind them made Hawke’s stomach drop. “Hawke, she’s dying.”

Bethany clutched weakly at their forearm, eyes already dangerously cloudy, and sighed. “Figures.” she said quietly, “Figures you’d get me into this kind of trouble.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” they whispered, “There has to be something we can do.”

They’d watched the taint take other people. Refugees, in the early days after leaving Ferelden. Aveline’s husband, to a degree. It wasn’t always slow but it was always unforgiving. Their chest felt tight, holding Bethany as she coughed hoarsely into her sleeve, until they felt a hand on their shoulder.

“There is something.” Anders said, glancing out into the dark corridors of the Deep Roads, “If we can get her to another Grey Warden.”

“I don’t suppose we can ask the Darkspawn for directions, Blondie?” Varric asked, coming around Hawke’s other side.

Anders shook his head. “No.” he said, “But you can ask me.”

Hawke only hesitated as second. And thought it was no life Bethany deserved or wanted it was still… a life. As they watched the wardens limp her away Anders laid a hand on Hawke’s shoulder.

“She’s strong.” he said quietly, “She’ll do fine.”

They excitedly showed him the first letter they got from her after she recovered from the joining. Anders smiled and held his arms out to them and Hawke dove into the embrace without a second thought, both laughing in relief in the middle of Darktown.

Sometimes, Hawke got to be a solution. Whether it was cutting off a raider before they made it to Anders or the one time they lead templars on a wild goose-chase through Lowtown pretending to be a mage. (’ _Lucky they didn’t just lock you up anyway._ ’ Anders scolded them later, but he was still smiling.)

“Justice– _Anders_!”

The mage froze, mere steps from that poor apostate girl, and looked over his shoulder at Hawke with fearful eyes, glow fading. Then he was gone, before Hawke could say anything. Before they could reach for him.

They found him in his clinic, shaky hands rifling through his desk, and watched him for a moment before reaching out and resting a hand on his shoulder. Anders tensed, jaw set as he waited for Hawke to speak.

“Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s pretty damn far from okay, Hawke!” he snapped, shaking their hand off and staggering to his feet, “I could have killed that girl! If you weren’t there I…”

“You didn’t.”

Anders started at them, shoulders slumping, and sighed. “I don’t deserve you.” he said.

Hawke just smiled, stepped closer, and shook their head. “You deserve everything I can give.” they said.

Anders still wasn’t sure but, well, he wasn’t about to fight things any longer either. They kissed, Hawke pulling him closer by his coat front, and everything fell into place there. Anders said it would be a disaster but Hawke saw the exact opposite.

His presence in their home was rife with solutions. Anders knew just how to keep dust off of books and wash sheets so they stayed soft. He knew how to cook eggs just so and he knew just how to organize things so that Hawke could always find their gear on early mornings. He knew just were, when, and how they liked to be kissed.

In the worst of times, he knew just how to listen.

“I failed her.”

Hawke felt Anders’ sit next to them on the bed but kept their face buried in their hands. If they saw his kind eyes now it would just push them back into tears and they were just too tired for that.

“You know Leandra wouldn’t want you beating yourself up like this.” he said.

Hawke shook their head and leaned against Anders. He raised his arm and allowed them to nestle against his side.

“What am I supposed to do?” they asked quietly, “If not that?”

“Whatever you have to. I’m here if you need me.”

And he was, for all Hawke’s good and bad days. It was never easy but Hawke didn’t want to consider how things would have been without him.

Sometimes, Anders’ problem solving was more direct. Like when he darted across the room the moment the Arishok fell, catching Hawke in his arms as they stumbled and slipped in blood–their blood, judging from the wound on their stomach.

“I’m here, I’ve got you.” Calm and soothing even in the face of his own fears. How Anders kept a level head the whole first 24 hours was largely a mystery to Hawke.

“Am I going to die?” they asked once, with just themselves and Anders in the darkened comfort of their room. The air hadn’t stopped smelling of copper even though they’d watched Anders toss the bloody clothing and sheets out before placing them back in bed.

“No, love.” Anders replied softly and hand his fingers through their tangled hair, “Not on my watch.”

Recovery took time, of course, but they didn’t die after all. Anders could have gloated, really, judging from how everyone else seemed to feel about the day, but he just seemed happy to have Hawke still.

Years of caring and loving. Soothing each others nightmares and anxieties. Hawke did their best to be half of what Anders was to them. They were no healer but they could protect, they could watch over, and they could love.

They could also, without question, get Anders something he asked for.

Hawke got to be a solution again this time, taking Anders into open arms even with the Chantry gone and Kirkwall mid-uprising around them. He wept and claimed to be unworthy but they would hear nothing of it.

They would follow him anywhere, whatever it meant.

“Ugh, know anything to fix lumpy inn mattresses? And I thought the bedrolls over rocks were bad.” Hawke asked, stretching stiffly and pressing a fist into the small of their back.

Next to them, still nestled in blankets and pillows, Anders laughed. “I can’t fix a mattress,” he said, “but I can help with your back.”

“Maker, you really do know how to fix anything.” Hawke murmured, feeling Anders’ hands pressing warming magic into their back.

“Hardly. I cause you far more problems than I could ever solve.” Anders replied fondly.

Hawke just sighed contently, knots in their muscles working loose. “You’ve always been my beloved problem solver, Anders.”

Anders just laughed, sitting up to run his hands over their shoulders now. Hawke all but melted, lumpy mattress all but forgiven now.

“Funny.” he said and pressed a kiss to their back, “I could say the same to you.”


End file.
